


The Holmes Cornish Cottage

by Aurora_bee



Series: Holidaying with the Holmes Brothers [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Children, Drug Addiction, Gen, Humor, Injury Recovery, Love, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Holmes family retreat to their Cornish cottage to take some well deserved rest.</p><p>I promise that I will make this a fun journey.  The first chapter may be a little angsty but it will be funny I promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Dad! Dad! The phone’s ringing!” Shouted Doyle as he ran around the room, his dad wrestled his clinging twin sister, Louisa into her bed.

“Why don’t you pick it up for me Doyle?” Greg asked rolling his eyes, exasperated at his nine year old son.

“Papa said I wasn’t s’posed to pick up the phone cause I told the prim minister he was ‘avin a poo.” Doyle replied sticking his tongue out and dashing off into his bedroom.

“Fine, right.” Greg said tucking the shockingly pink fairy duvet around his daughter.

“Will you be back for a story?” She asked, yawning and snuggling into her rag doll.

“Of course princess.” Greg replied kissing her gently on the head. 

“Better get the phone then, could be ‘portant.” Louisa giggled as Greg dashed into the hallway and picked up the telephone.

“Gregory? Is everything ok? You took a rather long time to answer.” Mycroft asked, concerned as Greg put the phone to his ear.

“Our children were distracting me.” Greg huffed, slightly out of breath after his mad dash.

“I need you to see Sherlock.” Mycroft said. Greg could sense something wasn’t quite right. 

“Mycroft?” Greg asked, knowing it was likely to be bad if Mycroft was asking him to go to see Sherlock.

“John’s been shot.” Mycroft replied sadly.

 

Gregory walked down the silent white corridor to Sherlock’s room. He stood outside for a moment readying himself for the assault that was to come. He took a deep breath and lifted his fist to knock.

“You can come in Greg. I don’t bite, well not today.” Sherlock called out to him. Greg slowly opened the door and peered in. Sherlock was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, a bowl of congealed porridge sat on the table next to him.

“Didn’t feel like eating breakfast?” Greg asked as he sat down in the garish plastic coated guest chair next to the bed.

“I ate yesterday.” Sherlock snapped, Greg ignored him.

“How do you feel?” Greg asked. The moment the words fell from his mouth he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Sherlock was a recovering drug addict and he was about to tell him the love of his life had been shot and it wasn’t certain he would make it.

“How do I feel? HOW DO I FEEL? Are you a complete idiot? I’m in fucking rehab, I was fine, just fine, I didn’t need any HELP.” Sherlock muttered to himself. “Then Mycroft just had to interfere.”

“John’s been shot!” Greg shouted. Sherlock’s rant stopped, he looked at the wardrobe where his clothes were stored.

“Get me out of here,” Sherlock said flatly, “now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet John again and find out that little Doyle is a little rascal.

The scorching sand was pressed against his cheek, like ground glass it bit at his skin. Inhaling seemed to pull miniscule granules into his lungs, making it hard to breath. John could feel his blood run through his veins in slow motion, viscous like treacle, his entire body trembling as if it would combust with the sheer energy it took to stay alive. The fierce fire that had started it all in his shoulder dripped onto the ground into a sticky pool underneath him. The drips echoing louder, and louder until they drowned out the sound of the intermittent gun fire around him. But that couldn’t be right could it? Fire didn’t flow like water, like blood.

“Sherlock!” John screamed around the tube in his mouth as he tried to sit up. A large gentle hand pushed him back against the bed.

“Shush John, it’s ok.” John opened his eyes to see Sherlock standing over him, a strange smile flitting across his face. John sighed with something akin to relief and reached out to the hand holding him down. Sherlock took John’s smaller hand in his own as John closed his eyes again. A single tear fell from Sherlock’s eye.

  


“How did you get here?” John croaked as he sipped the water Sherlock was holding through a straw. “I thought you were in rehab?”

“Mycroft.” Sherlock replied touching John’s cheek absentmindedly making sure he was still there. 

“Sherlock?” John half asked, more concerned with Sherlock than himself.

“I’m going to be fine.” Sherlock replied as he plumped John’s cushions behind. “I’d almost finished rehab. I have a reason not to use now.”

“I don’t want to be your reason.” John said with a sigh as he relaxed back onto his bed leaving Sherlock still holding the water.

“John..” Sherlock whispered.

“Sherlock it’s not fair.” John replied scrunching his eyes up in pain. “I love you, but I can’t be there 24/7 with you.” Sherlock looked at the floor ashamed. In truth he couldn’t cope on his own without John, but John had wanted to do something with his life, had wanted to help people. Sherlock hadn’t even been able to hold down a steady job for more than a month. The outcome to this had been that Mrs Hudson had thrown him out of his flat and he was now renting a grotty bedsit in Montague Street. 

“I’m sorry.” Sherlock replied hardly above a whisper as his throat seemed to have closed up and his eyes were suddenly flooded. John felt a fat drip on his hand and opened his eyes to see Sherlock, half the man he had been weeping quietly.

“Oh Sherlock.” John replied. “Let’s start again.”

  


“Now I want you two to behave.” Mycroft said to his children as they walked out of the large doors of the Veteran’s rehabilitation centre into the grounds. “John is not up to chasing you.”

“Yes Papa.” Louisa replied holding her papa’s hand tightly as her brother jumped down three steps and landed on the grass on his bottom.

“Owe.” Doyle groaned wiping the grass off his shorts. “Can we have a dog Papa?” Mycroft rolled his eyes, ignoring the request and walked on waiting for his son to catch up with him.

“Oh there’s Uncle John.” Louisa said quietly as she spotted her Uncle John and Uncle Sherlock sitting on a bench together.

“One moment.” Mycroft said as she pulled away. He squatted down and brushed her hair out of her eyes and pushed her glasses up onto her nose. “Now remember what I said,” he called as the children ran towards their uncle, “behave.”

“Ooof.” Sherlock groaned as Doyle jumped up on his lap and gave him a bear hug.

“Hello Uncle John.” Said Louisa where she was standing prettily in front of him.

“Are those new glasses princess?” John said as he lifted her onto his knee.

“Yup and they’re pretty pink like my Barbie doll.” Louisa Replied as John kissed her on the forehead.

“What did you do to your arm Uncle John?” Doyle asked making himself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap and looking at the sling John was wearing. John had prepared in advance for the question, not wanting to lie, but knowing he’d have to keep the truth to himself till the kids were a little older.

“I fell as I ran to help someone.” John answered. It wasn’t entirely a lie, he’d just omitted the fact that a bullet in the shoulder was what caused him to fall.

“Oh, that’s not very exciting.” Doyle replied rolling his eyes. “Is there anything to do here?” He groaned already bored, jumping off his uncle’s lap. 

“There’s a dead crow behind the gardening shed over there.” Sherlock said as he pointed toward a small wooden outhouse. 

“Ewe.“ Louisa groaned burying her head in John’s jumper.

“Use a stick.” Sherlock shouted as Doyle ran off to find the dead bird.

“How did Greg’s son turn out to be a miniature you?” John groaned as Doyle appeared from behind the gardening shed with a dead bird dangling from his fingers. Doyle waved at Sherlock for a moment until he spotted his Papa, then ran off with Mycroft running at full pelt after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the formatting has gone a bit wrong for some reason so there's no paragraph spacing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hasn't told John that they don't live in Baker Steet anymore.

“I’m looking forward to going home to Baker Street next week.” John said as he pulled himself along the walking bars. Sherlock hadn’t told him yet that he’d been thrown out, and that Mycroft had arranged for most of John’s belongings had been put into storage. Great new start, Sherlock thought to himself as John slowly dropped himself into the wheelchair next to him.

“I was thinking, perhaps we should take a break before we delve back into the world of domesticity.” Sherlock suggested.

“I’m not sure I could really manage anything at the moment. I know my shoulder has heeled up well, but my leg…” John looked down at the offending limb and sighed. It was all in his mind, he knew it was but the pain felt so real. Sherlock nudged him in the side.

“Mycroft has bought a cottage in Cornwall, St Agnes to be specific. It’s been adapted for wheelchairs.” Sherlock replied.

“For Louisa, if she needs it.” John said as he sucked in a breath. The thought of Louisa ever having to be in a wheel chair broke his heart. Louisa had been diagnosed with scoliosis about a year after she had been born, and it hadn’t been decided yet if she would need surgery. “Come on Sherlock, help me up. I want to do another lap.” John said with a wink, he was not going to let his leg get the better of him.

 

Mycroft sat opposite Sherlock in his beautiful nymphaeum in a wooden chair so covered in vines that it looked like it was part of the vegetation. The bone china tea set given to Mycroft by grandmother sat on the stump of an ancient oak tree in front of him. 

“Could we please use the cottage Mycroft? Just until I’ve managed to get back into Mrs Hudson’s good books again.” Sherlock begged as Mycroft poured him a cup of tea. Sherlock was actually surprised the set was all in one piece with Doyle living in the same house. 

“We are planning to visit during the summer holidays, you are more than welcome to join us. But only under the condition that you apologise to Mrs Hudson, and secure your abode.” Mycroft replied. “I believe that 221b may be available for you to move into, but only if you move swiftly brother.” Sherlock took a deep breath.

“Thank you.” Sherlock said, and for once he truly meant it.

“Uncle Sherlock!” Doyle screamed as he ran into the nymphaeum toward his uncle, stopping short as he saw the best china was being used. Sherlock lifted an eyebrow. “Papa will sell me to the gypsies if I hurt the china.” Doyle replied to Sherlock’s silent question.

“Nice to see that works on someone.” Sherlock stated with a grin, it had never worked on him when he was little.

“What do you mean Uncle Sherlock?” Doyle asked as he sat down on the ornate bench next to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock held a huge bouquet of white tulips and freesias as he knocked on the door of 221 Baker Street. They were Mrs Hudson’s favourites and he hoped that they might soften her up a little. Still Sherlock flinched as the door opened and the slightly older face of Mrs Hudson appeared, waiting for the deserved tirade.

“Mrs Hudson.” Sherlock stated as he was swept up into a tight hug. 

“Oh Sherlock.” Mrs Hudson sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re yourself again.” Sherlock squeezed her as tightly as he could without hurting her and kissed her rose scented cheek.

“So am I.” He replied.

 

“All I’ve done is dust and put the vacuum over.” Mrs Hudson said as Sherlock stepped through the door of 221B. “I couldn’t let anyone else rent it. It’s my boys’ home.” 

It was exactly the same as when he’d left it, bar the skull on the mantelpiece and a few pieces of scientific equipment that were now gone, sold to support his habit. John’s possessions were still there, untouched, just the way he had left them. Sherlock wiped his eyes which had started to tear up, Mycroft was owed a huge apology.

“Thank you Mrs Hudson.” Sherlock said as he sank down into his old chair by the fireplace. Mrs Hudson disappeared into the kitchen and started to tidy up. 

“Don’t expect me to carry on cleaning, I’m not your housekeeper you know.” Mrs Hudson called as she rinsed out two dusty mugs to make tea for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmes make their separate ways to the cottage.
> 
> Warning: Beatles lyrics and tickles.

“In the town where I was boooorn, lived a man who went to sea.” Doyle sang in the back of the car as they drove toward their holiday home in Cornwall.

“When is Uncle John and Uncle Sherlock going to be there?” Louisa asked looking up from combing the hair of her dolly.

“They are right behind us darling.” Mycroft replied as he turned to look at his little girl.

“I don’t see them.” Louisa replied as she looked out of the window.

“I’m sorry darling, I meant in time.” Mycroft replied softly, smiling.

“Are we talking about Dr Who now?” Doyle asked. “Cause if we are,” he opened his eyes wide and looked at his sister, “I’m a Dalek.” Louisa squealed with laughter as Doyle pretended to exterminate her. 

“How can you exterminate someone by tickling them?” Greg asked looking in the rear view mirror at his children. Doyle looked at him blankly.

“Well you see Greg. Doyle is using the little known martial art of ‘Tickly’, taught to the Daleks by the Tibetan monks of the Feather Order.” Mycroft added winking at his son.

“What Papa said.” Doyle said to his dad as he continued his assault on his sister.

“Ok then.” Greg replied rolling his eyes as Mycroft placed his hand on his knee. 

“We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, a yellow submarine.” Mycroft started to sing.

 

“Sherlock why are you stopping?” John asked as Sherlock pulled up next to the verge. Sherlock grinned unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to press a soft kiss on John’s lips.

“I just wanted to do that.” Sherlock explained as he looked deeply into John’s eyes.

“You’ve gone soft.” John replied smiling happily a warm tingle in his tummy. 

“I have to ground myself.” Sherlock replied his lips thinning in thought. “I could have lost you, and I need to know you’re still real.” 

“You’d never lose me Sherlock. You’re too clever. You probably have me ID tagged.” John laughed. Sherlock looked at the back of John’s neck and smirked. “Oh god you didn’t did you.” John groaned as his hand flew up to his neck to try and feel for some tell tale sign.

“Really John.” Sherlock replied laughing heartily.

“You great git!” John yelled pulling Sherlock toward him and kissing him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family arrives at the cottage.

It appeared after all that Sherlock and John hadn’t been right behind them. They had actually been considerably ahead of them judging from the skewed clothes and ruffled hair. Greg pulled up into the drive next to them where they sat of the bonnet of their Landrover kissing, waiting to be let into the cottage.

“Ewe,” groaned Doyle, “that’s gross.” He said looking toward his two uncles. Greg smirked and pulled Mycroft toward him to kiss him. “What is it with grown ups!” Doyle grumbled closing his eyes and trying to open the door to no avail as the child locks were on.

“Hey kids!” John shouted as Sherlock helped him down off the bonnet and handed him his crutches. They had brought the wheelchair but John was determined not to use it. Mycroft got out of the car and released his small tigers, who ran straight toward their uncles.

“Wow those crutches are nearly as tall as me.” Doyle said as he reached out to measure it against himself.

“Yes I know I’m short, you cheeky sausage.” John said poking his tongue out at Doyle. Louisa shyly made her way over to Sherlock.

“Locki, cause we’re on ‘oliday and it’s a special treat can I make your hair pretty?” Louisa said as Sherlock picked her up and kissed her on the cheek.

“If you’d like, but please remind me to take the bows out before we go anywhere. I had some particularly strange looks from the bank tiller in Barclays last time.” Sherlock replied.

“Sorry Locki.” Louisa giggled, as she twisted a lock of his hair in her fingers.

“Girls are sooo boring.” Doyle piped up. “All hair and butterflies.”

“I like butterflies, they’re cool, uncle Locki says so.” Louisa said annoyed.

“No arguing please, we’re on holiday.” Mycroft stated as he pulled one of their suitcases out of the boot.

“But he started it.” Louisa grumbled. Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his daughter. 

“Let’s all have tea shall we.” Mycroft said to distract the children. “Your father bought some clotted cream at the garage we stopped at. So we can all have a cream tea.”

“Yum, scones.” Said Doyle happily.

“Creamy.” Louisa said jostling in Sherlock’s arms.

“Have you got strawberry jam?” John asked as everyone turned to look at him. “What! I like strawberry jam.”

  


“Are you sure you don’t mind us having the larger bedroom?” John asked as he looked around the room. It wasn’t that it was huge, it was just slightly bigger and on the ground floor so it was easier for John.

“We’re sure.” Greg replied as he helped Sherlock put the suitcase on the bed to unpack.

“Yessssss it’s a bunk bed!” John heard Doyle scream from upstairs.

“Is that good or bad?” John asked as he sat on the edge of the bed beside the suitcase.

“It’s good. He’s been on about getting bunk beds for ages.” Greg smiled. “So one of Mycroft’s many minions set one up here.”

“He’s a very lucky boy.” John replied as Sherlock opened the suitcase and looked at the contents as if they might bite him.

“Come on Sherlock pass me some hangers from the cupboard and we’ll hang some things up.” John said poking Sherlock in the ribs.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Greg said. “We’ll be having cream tea after we’ve unpacked, I’ll call you when it’s ready.” With that Greg left them.

“Sherlock close the door would you?” John asked. “And put the suitcase on the floor for the time being. The packing can wait until later.” Sherlock closed the door and looked at John suspiciously. John unzipped his jeans and shuffled out of them a wide grin on his face.

“Oh.” Sherlock said surprising himself by blushing at the thought. “Do you think you’re…”

“It’s been six months Sherlock.” John replied his eye twitching slightly. “My stupid leg isn’t going to stop me from shagging my gorgeous boyfriend.”

“Gorgeous?” Sherlock said shyly as John pulled him toward the bed.

“Gorgeous, handsome, sexy, a dynamo in bed, should I go on?” John asked with a smirk.

“If only you could speak with your mouth full.” Sherlock said before sampling John’s delicious mouth in a moment of passion.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cream tea, shopping and general cuteness.

“Are they coming?” Greg asked his daughter as he smeared an ample portion of jam onto one of Doyle’s scones. Louisa had been sent to get John and Sherlock from their room at the back of the house.

“Nope, they are asleep.” She replied sitting down at the table.

“How’d you know?” Greg asked as he poured his daughter a cup of frothy hot chocolate.

“Locki told me.” She replied looking at her father like he was stupid. Mycroft covered his mouth with his hand as he laughed.

“What do you think of your room?” Greg asked the twins changing the subject. 

“I love most of it.” Doyle replied as he licked his sticky jam covered fingers. “Just not the pink bit, or sharing with Lucy Lou.”

“That can’t be helped.” Mycroft replied. “When you are older perhaps one of you can have the bedroom on the ground floor. Until then you’re where we think is best.”

“You mean where we can keep an eye on them.” Greg laughed.

“We don’t need to be watched!” The twins shouted together.

“We’re nine now. We’re almost grown ups.” Doyle said annoyed.

“What is all the ruckus about?” Sherlock asked as he entered the room wearing just his shirt and trousers.

“I thought you were asleep brother?” Mycroft enquired.

“Indeed Mycroft, but John is like a scent hound and could smell the scent of fresh jam. I have been sent ahead to acquire some refreshments before the ‘gobble twins’ eat it all.” Sherlock replied. 

“I don’t gobble.” Louisa replied with a blob of clotted cream on her nose.

“I do.” Doyle replied as he demonstrated covering his face with jam and cream while doing it. Greg rolled his eyes.

“You know you were like this at this age Sherlock.” Greg groaned.

“And I was the good one like Louisa.” John said as he struggled over on his crutches. Greg started to stand, Sherlock touched his arm to stop him. “It’s ok Greg, it’s very kind of you but I have to learn to do this on my own.”

“Sorry, I just. I don’t like to see you struggle.” Greg said sadly.

“It’ll be ok.” John soothed as he sat down at the table and dropped one of his crutches on Sherlock’s bare foot.

“Owe!” Grumbled Sherlock picking it up and resting it against his chair.

“Sorry Sherlock. Now where’s the jam?” John asked with a huge grin.

  


John carefully got into the car and shut the door, after checking to see Sherlock had got the kids seat belted up. 

“There’s a Spar in the high street where we can get a few things.” Sherlock said as he got into the driving seat.

“I can’t believe six people went through four pints of milk in an hour.” John groaned looking at Doyle who was smirking.

“I’m a growing boy.” Doyle stated. “Nan says milk will make me have strong bones.”

“Papa made the hot chocolate with the milk, just how I like it.” Louisa said. “I’m sorry if I drank too much.”

“Oh no sweetheart it’s ok. It’s better than Uncle Sherlock using it for his experiments.” At that moment John wished he’d kept his mouth shut as the children piped up.

“Can we do some experiments?” The twins chorused.

“I’ll think about it.” Sherlock replied smiling at them in the rear view mirror. “Why don’t we make a shopping list?”

“Can we do the bottle rocket one please?” Louisa asked.

“Yeah that was brilliant last time we did it.” Doyle said giving his sister the thumbs up.

“Do you remember what we used last time?” Sherlock asked. “When we have the full shopping list we’ll buy what we require.” The twins quietly chatted amongst themselves.

“You’re surprisingly good with children, I’ve always been surprised.” John said as they pulled up into the small car park near the Spar.

“Perhaps we could have one, one day.” Sherlock replied.

“No thanks I already have you.” John laughed. Sherlock looked away and frowned as he opened the door to get out.


End file.
